


Love's the only thing that's free

by kallistob



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, And Gets One, First Meeting, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hope, Kissing, M/M, Percival Graves needs a hug, Sleepy Cuddles, Strangers to Lovers, Watching Movies Together, a lot of fluff, i cant believe im writing fluffy things, newt is crushing so hard, the boys are having an accidental sleepover, they're in love but they don't know it yet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-08
Updated: 2017-07-08
Packaged: 2018-11-29 05:34:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11434218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kallistob/pseuds/kallistob
Summary: Newt isn’t sure how it happens. One moment he is sitting in his favorite coffee shop next to the window, reading a book about magical creatures, and the next the most handsome man Newt has ever seen takes Newt’s hands in his and says, “Please be my boyfriend.”





	Love's the only thing that's free

_“Almost suspended, we are laid asleep_

_In body, and become a living soul.”_

\- William Wordsworth.

 

* * *

 

Newt isn’t sure how it happens. One moment he is sitting in his favorite coffee shop next to the window, reading a book about magical creatures, and the next the most handsome man Newt has ever seen takes Newt’s hands in his and says, “Please be my boyfriend.”

Newt gapes at him. The book is forgotten on the table, forcibly taken away by the stranger who is now caressing the back of Newt’s hands softly and making it hard to think. The man’s brows are furrowed, his eyes pleading, and he hasn’t bothered with a drink. It’s like he just walked into the shop to ask Newt out, and Newt doesn’t know what to say.

“I'm sorry?” He eventually manages. The stranger leans in conspiratorially on the table and Newt can’t help but notice the shadows his long eyelashes cast on his cheeks.

“You see that man over there?” The stranger asks, nodding towards the counter. “White suit, pale hair, sunglasses?”

He is a bit hard to miss, so Newt says yes.

“That,” the strangers says, “is my ex, and he also happens to be the biggest dick you can find in town.”

“Right,” Newt replies slowly. “And what does that have to do with me?”

“Frankly nothing,” the stranger says, looking embarrassed, “but - well -” He breaks eye contact, unwilling to meet Newt’s eyes, “Let’s just say we didn’t break up smoothly and I _don’t_ want him to see me. Or if he does, then I want him to see that I can very well move on and be happy _without_ him. If he sees me alone he might get the bad idea to come and try to win me over again, which…” The man grimaces. “Which is something I really don’t need right now. Hence -”

“Hence the need for me to play pretend at being your boyfriend,” Newt says, nodding. “I understand.”

“You do?”

“Kind of,” Newt admits. “I can play the part if you want. What’s your name?”

“Percival,” Percival says at the same time as a booming voice behind them says the exact same thing.

“Percival Graves!”

Percival cringes and mutters what looks to be a quick prayer before turning around to look at the man in the white suit. His grip on Newt's hands tightens and Newt makes a face, before trying not to let his discomfort show.

“Gellert Grindelwald,” Percival says, voice tight, “what a delightful surprise.”

Gellert ignores the obvious sarcasm lacing Graves’ voice and approaches until he’s looming over their table, eyes focused on Graves. He looks odd, Newt thinks, what with his mismatched eyes and undercut, but he also seems powerful and charismatic. He  doesn’t understand yet how Percival could have dated him, but he doesn’t know their history.

It’s his turn to rub circles onto Graves’ hands to get him to relax and it works a little. Percival clears his throat and straightens up, glaring at Grindelwald.

“How are you doing?” Gellert asks, looking concerned and Graves deflates like a balloon. He looks away, then back at Newt and their joined hands, seeming to muster up courage from that sight.

“Better,” he says, voice firm. “And I want to keep it that way. Do you mind leaving us alone?”

Gellert ignores him, looking at Newt curiously, then at their joined hands. Something passes in his eyes, something that makes Newt almost want to give up on Graves and run. But he doesn’t do it, instead looking up at Grindelwald resolutely. Graves’ palms are sweating, but Newt ignores that too. The older man is clearly uncomfortable, both with this encounter and with asking for Newt’s help, but Newt doesn’t hold it against him. “And this is…?”

Graves opens his mouth before closing it, and Newt realizes with a start that he never told Graves his name. “Newt Scamander. I’m Percival’s lover. Pleased to meet you.” The last part isn’t really true, but Newt remains polite. He doesn’t know what kind of man Grindelwald is.

“The pleasure is all mine,” Gellert says smoothly. “And how long have you two been together?”

“One month,” Graves says immediately, almost fiercely. Grindelwald nods, appearing unaffected by the information, but Newt sees him clench his fists. There’s a lot of things he’s missing here, and he hopes Graves can help him understand afterwards.

“I see.”

There’s silence in which both Graves and Newt look at each other as if to say, _what do we do now_ , and then Grindelwald says, almost maliciously, “I have to admit, Percival, I didn’t know you liked them quite so young.”

Percival looks at Newt and does a double take, as if noticing for the first time how young Newt _is_ , and Newt shakes his head at the slight fear he sees in Graves’ eyes. Really, this is ridiculous. He knows he looks younger than his age, but not to the point of throwing accusations like that around out of spite.

“I’m twenty-four.”

Graves relaxes minutely, but Grindelwald doesn’t leave it at that. “Apologies. And what is it you do for a living, Mr. Scamander? At this age, I imagine you’re still studying or working part time somewhere nice. I saw you reading earlier. Literature student? You do look like quite the artist.”

Newt knows mockery when he hears it, and although he knows he is not dressed to the nines like Grindelwald is simply because he doesn’t really care about fashion, he smirks. Both Grindelwald and Graves are in for a little surprise.

“Not literature, no. I’m a zoologist. In fact, I wrote a successful book which was released last spring, after three years  of traveling around the world to study felines. People from Cyan Productions are in the process of making a TV series out of it,” Newt says sweetly.

“I’m afraid I won’t have the time to watch, but thank you for informing me of its existence.” Grindelwald replies smoothly. “You seem like an interesting man, Mr. Scamander. These are quite the accomplishments for someone your age.”

“I know,” Newt says simply. “What about you? What do you do?”

Graves lets go of Newt’s hands to intertwine their fingers together instead, and Newt sees in the corner of his eye that Graves looks just the slightest bit impressed with the way Newt is handling this.

“I’m the second in command to the CEO of M.A.C.U.S.A Enterprise,” Grindelwald says, placing his hands on the table as if he were presiding over a meeting and not chatting up his ex and a stranger at a coffee shop. “And well on my way to replace him. Surely you’ve heard of our company?”

“The name sounds familiar,” Newt frowns, “But I’m afraid I’m not very interested in these matters.”

“Good, Mr. Scamander. Stay _away_ from it.” Grindelwald's tone is amicable, but his eyes drift over to Graves and Newt has the feeling he's not talking about the company anymore. “I’m afraid I must run, gentlemen. I have business matters to attend to. I know they're all waiting for me despite the late hour. I must have missed about ten phone calls already because I took the time to sit with you.”

“We never asked you to,” Graves points out, finally opening his mouth. “Please go away.”

Grindelwald shakes his head regretfully at Graves’ tone, as if Graves was a petulant child. “Yes, yes, I’m leaving. Percival -” Grindelwald reaches out and squeezes Percy’s shoulder, Percival’s entire body tensing at the gesture. “It’s good to see you are doing so well. But if you need me, you know where to find me. Take care of yourself.”

“Please let go of me,” Percival says between gritted teeth. He is pale, and not for the first time Newt wonders what the hell hapened between the two of them to make Graves seem so on guard around Gellert. The other man seems okay enough at first sight, if a bit arrogant, but Newt can see Graves isn’t faking anything. His body language screams discomfort, even fear, and Newt steps in.

“Hey. He told you to let go.”

Grindelwald releases Graves immediately and steps back, waving at Newt. “Have a good day, the both of you. I expect we’ll run into each other again - New York is smaller than we think.”

Then Gellert finally leaves, grabbing the coffee he left on a table in his haste to talk to Graves and hurrying away to the exit. Graves’ eyes follow him as he walks in the street, and it’s only when Grindelwald is out of sight that he allows himself to let go of Newt’s hands.

“I’m _so_ sorry about all that,” Graves starts, letting out a little dismissive laugh. “I just needed him to see -”

“Are you okay?” Newt asks softly, and Graves’ voice falters.

“I - yeah, I think so,” Graves says. “Thanks to you. I don’t think I would have survived if I’d been alone. But then again, buying coffee in a coffee shop so close to his office building wasn't very smart.”

“You couldn’t have known,” Newt says, shrugging. “If you start avoiding every area because you _might_ encounter someone you had a bad experience with, you’d just stop living.”

“A bad experience is putting it mildly,” Graves mutters.

Newt takes a sip of his now cold tea, grimacing at the taste. He’d completely forgotten it. Graves notices, however, and quickly stands up, pulling a ten dollar bill out of his pocket. “God, I’m sorry. Tell me what you want, I’ll buy another for you? I just barged in on you like that and dragged you into this -"

“It’s okay,” Newt says. “It was interesting. Sit down. It’s too late for tea anyway.” Then he smiles. “You should know us Brits are very peculiar about tea time.”

Graves laughs and nods. “You’re right, you’re right. So then,” he taps his fingers against the tabletop and smiles at Newt, trying to put the encounter with Grindelwald behind him. “What’s an English man like you doing in New York?”

“I’m working at the zoo for now,” Newt explains. “Trying to make enough money to travel again for a couple of years and start working on a second book.”

“I should read the first one,” Graves muses. “I’ve always loved felines as a kid. What’s the title?”

“It’s always either felines or dinosaurs,” Newt says, the corners of his eyes wrinkling with happiness. This isn't the way he planned this evening to go, but he's not complaining. He reaches for his bag and takes out a pen, tearing a page of his sketchbook out and quickly scribbles the name of his book on it. “Here.”

Graves takes the paper, nodding at the title before slipping it inside his jeans pocket. “It was both for me. Big cats and dinosaurs. Does that make me special?”

“Maybe,” Newt says, chuckling. “What about you?”

“What about me?” Graves looks away.

“What do you do for a living? How does a man like you end up -” Newt trails off just in time, not wanting to remind Graves of their encounter with Grindelwald. “I mean. Yeah. What do you do for a living?” Graves grimaces, no doubt catching what Newt meant to say and Newt could have slapped himself. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Graves waves a hand dismissively. “I’ll think about him whether you mention him or not anyway.”

“You don’t seem happy about that.”

“I’m not.” Graves laughs again, short and sharp. “Sometimes I wish I could just climb inside my brain and fucking pull out every memory I have of him and burn them in order to forget, but I can’t do that.”

Newt nods as though he understood. He doesn’t know what to say, so he takes another sip of his cold tea just to find something to occupy his hands with. “He hurt you. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

Graves waves his hand again in a vague, what-can-you-do gesture. “He did. I’m trying to get over it, but it would help if I never saw him at all.”

“I understand.”

“Sorry,” Graves says. “You can tell me to piss off, you know. You’re just letting an old man ramble about his failure of a love life and taking up your time. I’m sure you’ve got better things to do.”

“As a matter of fact, I don’t,” Newt says simply. “It's the weekend. And you’re not _that_ old.”

“I’m forty.”

“Okay, so maybe you're old, but you're still interesting.”

Graves laughs, softly, before looking at Newt and biting his lips. The bastard must know what he's doing, for Newt thinks the simple gesture is absolutely sinful. “Does that mean I have permission to take up your time, then?”

“You’re already doing it,” Newt reminds him. “And I never told you to fuck off.” Then, boldly, he says, “In fact it's getting late. Would you like to have dinner with me?”

Graves seems to consider him, and Newt realizes how forward that sounded.

“As friends?” Newt tries to catch himself hastily. “I mean, unless you're busy? But we established that you weren't, so…”

“I'd love to, I just didn’t think you were -”

“And I don’t have anything to do and you seem like a cool guy -”

“Hitting on me,” Graves finishes. “I should be the one inviting you, to thank you for your help. How does Japanese sound?”

“ - and you still haven’t told me what you do for a living and I want to know and - and Japanese sounds great, thank you,” Newt says, flushing. He hadn't expected Graves to say yes. People usually avoid his company - but then again he hasn't rambled about animals for two hours yet, so maybe he still has a chance with Graves.

“Perfect.” Graves gets up. “It’s on me, then. Come on.”

Newt stands up as well, putting his book, pen and paper back in his bag and quickly buttoning up his blue coat. Graves holds the door for him as they leave the coffee shop, the waitress throwing a cheerful “Good bye!” at their backs, and then they’re walking down the street.

Night has fallen, the change of atmosphere making silence fall between them. It only lasts for a couple of minutes before both Newt and Graves start talking at the same time.

“Why did you think -”

“I’m -”

They both laugh and apologize, and Graves encourages Newt to start. “Why did you think I wasn’t hitting on you?” Newt asks curiously.

Graves looks at him, then snorts. “You’re young, pretty, and you looked perfectly peaceful before I started bothering you. If Grindelwald hadn’t been there I likely would have just admired you from afar and daydreamed about things that couldn’t happen.”

That…wasn’t what Newt expected. He stops in his track and feels his cheeks heat up, because if Graves never talked to him and Newt saw him he probably would have behaved the same way. Graves stops walking as well, an apologetic expression on his face. “I’m sorry. Did I make you uncomfortable?”

“No, you - no,” Newt says, trying not to stammer. “It’s just - you’re so -” Newt swallows, then tries again. “To be perfectly honest with you when I first saw you my first thought was that it had to be illegal to be as handsome as you, so if anyone is daydreaming it would be me.”

Graves’ eyes widen and he lets out a soft, “oh” of surprise. Newt smiles at him, shyly, but Graves seems at a loss for words so Newt takes pity on him.

“You wanted to say something?”

“Uh - right,” Graves says, shaking his head as if to clear it. “You asked about my job.”

“I did.”

“I’m afraid it’s not a pleasant one.”

“I’ve faced tigers in Siberia,” Newt says stubbornly, raising his eyebrows. “Nothing can scare me.”

“Right,” Graves says, amused. “Well, Mr. Adventurer, I work for the police and solve cases. It’s not always pretty. I kind of see all the shit the world has to offer and it's awful.”

“Oh,” Newt says. “But it must be rewarding, right?”

“It is when you finally put a maniac behind bars,” Graves admits. “And we're almost there.”

“Where?”

“The restaurant,” Graves reminds him. “That’s kind of why you’re still stuck with me. I have to repay you for your kindness.”

“You don't _have to._ I did what anyone would do.”

“Believe me, you did not, Newt.” And Newt decides he likes the way his name sounds when Graves says it. “I was lucky you decided to play along. You could have told me and my faggot ass to fuck off, or something equally poetic. You know how some people are.”

“They're idiots,” Newt agrees, appalled. “Someone said that to you?”

“Yeah, a long time ago. Okay, we need to cross the street.”

“On a scale of one to ten,” Newt jokes, making his tone light and detached, “How much does your ex need to be put behind bars?”

Graves pauses, then says honestly, “At least seven.”

Newt blinks. “Uh.”

“Yeah. Don’t be fooled by his politeness or seeming kindness. I hope you never see him again, but if you do don’t _listen_ to a word he says. He’s a fucking master at manipulating people and I didn’t see it until it was too late.”

Once again Newt doesn’t know what to say in the face of Graves’ evident pain. Human relations have never been his forte - it is, frankly, a miracle that him and Graves got this far, which is why Newt wants to see where it will lead them. Cautiously, he reaches out and takes Graves’ hand in his, trying to comfort him with the simple human contact. Graves startles but he doesn’t try to throw Newt off, and Newt considers it a little victory.

“There we are,” Graves says, pointing at the restaurant’s red sign, glowing above their heads. “Best Japanese I know. But if you changed your mind, we can try something else.”

“This is fine,” Newt reassures him. “Don’t worry.”

They enter the restaurant only to be told by the waitress that they should have made reservations, and Graves looks like a kicked puppy when they step outside again. “Well that was a spectacular failure.”

Newt grins. “We could go to McDonald’s.”

“What? No,” Graves makes a disgusted face. “We deserve better than that, please.”

“Or…” Newt starts. He shouldn't. This is stupid, they barely know each other, Graves won’t accept. Newt is getting ahead of himself, Graves could be a psychopath in disguise for all he knows, what is he doing - “Or we could go to my place and I can cook us dinner?”

“What?”

Newt flushes. “I'm a good cook when I want to be, promise.”

“Uh - sure?” Graves asks. “But I don't want to bother -”

“I’m offering,” Newt says. “I don’t live far - barely two stops down the yellow line.”

“That sounds good,” Graves says reluctantly, “But I barely know you.”

“I could say the same. Frankly I have no idea what I’m doing right now,” Newt admits, “I just know that I'm having a good evening for once and want to see where it goes.”

“To your place, apparently.”

“Only if you agree. We can try another restaurant, I know a few myself -”

“No,” Graves interrupts. “Your place is fine.”

“O - okay.”

 

-

 

Newt is still holding Graves’ hand as he guides them to the nearest metro station. The subway is a bit packed but blissfully empty of performers for once. There are only people seemingly going home from work, and Newt glances at his watch to see that it is close to eight pm. He tears his gaze away from the names of the stations to ask Percival if he is sure Newt is not bothering him, that he can refuse this if he wants to and Newt won’t take it badly at all - then he startles when he realizes how close Percival is to him.

Newt’s eyes fall to Graves’ mouth, helpless, and he barely refrains from tucking the loose strand of hair falling into Graves’ eyes away from his face.

He notices that Percival is smaller than him, and it makes his heart squeeze in his chest. Graves seems to have realized the same thing, because suddenly he is frowning in confusion and Newt wants to kiss the adorable expression away from his face.

Uh.

Wait. No. He doesn't.

Does he?

He certainly shouldn’t _want_ to. Percival is handsome, yes, but he also just got out of a bad relationship, even if Newt doesn't know the details. Newt feels lucky enough that the both of them seem to be forming a tentative friendship. And if it turns into more then Newt would be elated, but he’d rather not get his hopes up. It’s not worth the headache when he could just be enjoying the moment.

“How come everyone I meet is taller than me?” Graves grumbles at him, grumpy. “Even the women! My boss is a goddamn giant, and now you!”

“I’m sorry?” Newt says sheepishly. “I think it’s cute. And I’m sure you have other qualities to compensate for your height - or lack thereof.”

“You son of a bitch,” Graves says, but there’s no real heat behind it. “I’m not _cute._ ”

“That sounds like something a cute bloke would say.”

“Oh my god,” Graves groans. “Why am I following you again?”

“I’ve no idea,” Newt says honestly. The train brakes and Graves accompanies Newt out of the station and into the streets, looking curiously around him. Night has fallen already and Newt sees Graves shiver in his leather jacket. He picks up the pace, unwilling to let the other man catch a cold  when he has a good pile of blankets at home, tea, and quite possibly a hot meal.

“This looks like a nice area to live in,” Graves comments as Newt taps the code to get into his small apartment building. “Seems animated.”

“It is,” Newt agrees, holding up the door and letting Graves pass in front of him. “My parents help with the rent, although my job is enough to get by for now. They just keep insisting. That, plus the sales from my book, and the tv series… I should start looking for a new place,” Newt says, baffled. “Something bigger.”

“You really have that much money?” Graves asks as they climb up the stairs.

“Hmm?”

“There’s gonna be a tv show out of a book you wrote?”

“Yeah,” Newt frowns. “Why would I make that up? I gave you the book’s name earlier.”

“Yeah, no, I know, I just -” Graves rubs the back of his neck, embarrassed. “I don’t know. It’s impressive.”

Newt makes a noncommittal noise as he unlocks the door to his flat, stepping aside to let Graves in. “Come in.”

Graves does, letting out a contented sigh at the sudden warmth. Newt closes the door behind him and for a moment they are both plunged in darkness until Newt finds the lightswitch. The flat isn’t big - there’s a bedroom, a living room and a bathroom. It’s not much, but it’s home.

“Err - where should I put my…?” Graves gestures to the jacket he holds in his arms, and Newt quickly takes it from him to hang it on the coat rack behind the door. He takes off his shoes and encourages Graves to imitate him.

“I’ve got slippers, if you want?”

“Please.”

Newt hands them to Graves, staying in his socks for now. “If I slip on the floor and break a leg it'll be your fault, just so you know.”

“Wait, this is your only pair?”

Newt rolls his eyes.

“It's fine. I know this flat better than you, I'm not in danger of hurting myself. Keep the slippers on. If I really can't function I'm pretty sure I have a pair of those big warm socks that stick to the floor when you walk, but I'm also sure they’re covered in drawings of badgers so I'd rather save myself the embarrassment.”

Graves laughs and Newt loves the sound of it. He guides Graves to the living room, inviting him to sit on the sofa while he hastily gathers all the papers scattered around on the table and floor.

Graves takes one of them, holding it up to the light and Newt suddenly feels self conscious, wanting to hide them even though he knows they're good. “You drew these?”

“Yes,” Newt says quietly. “I've been drawing since I was a kid - back when I travelled I sketched all the animals I saw. Some of the sketches are in the book, if you want to see? I must have a copy somewhere -”

“I’d love to see them,” Graves says seriously, and Newt swallows before hurrying to his bedroom. On his way he passes by the kitchen and stops.

“Hey, do you want anything?” He calls. “Tea, hot chocolate, anything at all?”

“Tea would be nice, thank you,” Graves replies, so Newt nods and keeps going.

He freezes in the entrance of his bedroom, shame turning the tips of his ears red. The living room was okay, save for an empty cup of tea on the low table which he never properly washed - but his bedroom is a mess. Newt quickly walks over to the window to open it, slipping on a lone sock on his way and almost crashing head first into the bed. Newt groans and makes said bed as quickly as he can, before taking the clothes thrown haphazardly in the room and putting them at random in his drawers.

The room looks a bit better that way, making it seem like Newt has his life together and that’s what matters. He grabs the book from the small shelves he has there and leaves the bedroom. On his way he makes himself and Graves a cup of tea, and on second thought he also brings back to the living room the only cook book he possesses. Maybe they can try their hands at baking something. It's probably a terrible idea, but it also could be fun. And if it fails, there’s always takeout.

“Hey,” he says, sitting down next to Graves on the sofa after placing the tray on the table in front of them. “Hope I didn’t make you wait.”

“It’s fine. I’ve been looking at those,” Graves says, showing Newt one of his drawings of a stray cat he met a few days ago. “They’re incredibly good. Do you sell them?”

“Sometimes,” Newt smiles, genuinely delighted that Percival likes his work. “Thank you. I brought the book, as well as -”

He shows Graves _One Hundred Meals For A Lone Student,_ and Graves laughs at the title. “They make things like these?”

“They make everything,” Newt whispers dramatically before taking on a normal tone again. “It doesn’t really help, though. Half the time the recipes still have like fifty ingredients to buy and take half the day to cook, and it’s just not made for students at all despite the advertised promise.”

“I see,” Graves says, amusement lacing his voice. “So you don’t actually cook.”

“I love to cook,” Newt points out. “That’s why I bought it. I thought maybe since you’re here we could try cooking and not burn the place down while we do.”

“Oh, because you burned the place down before?”

“Or we can order takeout and eat it in front of a movie,” Newt suggests after sticking his tongue out at Graves in a very mature gesture.

Graves looks distant for a moment as he stares at the cookbook in his hands. Then he looks up at Newt and says, smiling, “Let's try.”

They both wash their hands in the kitchen, and Newt lets Graves turn the pages of the book to settle on a recipe while he takes out the single apron he owns.

“Fish or meat?”

“I only have meat,” Newt replies absently. _Kiss the cook,_ the apron reads, and Newt blushes but he still puts it on before tapping Graves’ shoulder.

“So,” he asks. “Where do we begin?”

Graves takes in his appearance - the bag of flour in Newt’s right hand, the salt in the other, and his smile widens at the apron.

“Why, Mr. Scamander, is that a suggestion?” He winks at Newt, exaggerating the gesture on purpose and Newt stifles his laugh, choosing to reply seriously because yes, it totally is.

“Maybe. Whether or not you take the invitation is up to you.”

Graves laughs and then suddenly stills.

Silence falls, the room quiet like the stillness of a forest after a gunshot, and Newt feels his heart plummet in his chest, wondering what he did wrong. He opens his mouth to apologize but then he sees the way Graves shivers. Percival looks at his hands resting on the counter, taking a deep breath before looking back at Newt.

“Okay.”

“I’m sorry,” Newt says, voice small. “I shouldn’t be - I shouldn’t have - I’m not trying to take advantage of you or anything, I just -”

Graves laughs, shakily. “I know you’re not  - I mean, look at you. You look like you wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“Appearances can be deceiving,” Newt says without thinking. “Even in nature - look at the stick bug, for example, hiding in plain sight -”

“I know. Fuck.”

Newt stares helplessly, incomprehensibly as Graves’ eyes fill with tears. His lower lip trembles and Newt sees how hard Graves is trying not to break, to reign it all back in, raising his eyes up to the ceiling not to let the tears fall. “Appearances _are_ deceiving, I _know_ that, damn it - Fuck. I'm sorry. I don't know what's happening.” Graves wipes his eyes with the back of his hand furiously. “Get it together, you idiot. I'm sorry. I’m ruining your night.”

Newt shakes his head, voice small. “It’s fine. I chose to invite you over.”

“Yeah, well, perhaps you shouldn’t have. Look at me. Can’t even cook without crying.”

“There is no shame in crying if you need it, Percival,” Newt says hesitantly. He lays a hand on Percival’s shoulder and the contact makes Graves’ voice break on a sob. “It’s okay. We don't have to cook. We can order takeout.”

Newt opens his arms, letting Graves make the decision, and then Graves - this stranger Newt barely knows - snuggles against him, sobs growing louder and leaving him shaking. Newt holds him close, soothes him, trying to offer support for something he doesn't understand.

“It’s okay,” Newt repeats, unsure if it helps at all. “You’re safe. It’s okay. You will be fine. You’re here.”

“I’m a fucking idiot,” Graves says, voice muffled by Newt’s shoulder.

“You’re not.”

“‘Am so.”

“Okay then. You’re an idiot and so am I. I invited a stranger into my home because I’m a lonesome idiot and we’ll order take out and eat it together in front of the couch and watch a movie or two and you’re free to go whenever you want, Percival. Whenever you _want_. I want you to feel safe. I - I just want you to feel happy.”

“What the fuck,” Graves mutters against him, but when he raises his head Newt is relieved to see the tears have stopped. “You're a sap.”

“That... did sound terribly sappy. Sorry.”

Newt hands him a tissue and Graves blows his nose and wipes his eyes, trying to pull himself back together, aided by Newt’s comforting, steady presence.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t mention it. So!” Newt takes off his apron and folds it on the kitchen counter. “What do you like? Indian, pizza, Japanese?”

“Pizza sounds good.” Graves’ voice is hoarse. Newt ushers him back into the living room, advising him to drink his tea before it gets cold while he dials the pizzeria’s number.

“Is meat okay with you?”

“Yeah,” Graves replies. “Perfect.”

“Hello?” He says when someone picks up. “I would like to order a burger pizza to deliver at the…”

 

-

 

“They’re making it. It should be here in twenty minutes or so.”

“Great. I’ll pay you back, don’t worry -”

“No, no. It’s fine.”

“Please. It's the least I can do. I keep messing up tonight, don’t I?” Percival says, looking away. “I was supposed to invite you but the restaurant didn’t want us. You wanted to cook and I just had to make it sad.” Graves sighs, the exhaustion palpable in the simple gesture. “I wish I was better than that.”

“Stop that,” Newt scowls. “You’re great, okay? I didn't run away or start kicking you out yet.”

“There’s the sappiness again.”

“Well it's true.”

“I don’t feel that way. You, however - you’re kind and honest, Newt. You’re a good person.”

“So are you. Living through bad experiences doesn’t make you bad, Percival. Or tainted. Or anything it is you’re thinking. But if I may ask - and you _can_ tell me to fuck off - what... “ Newt’s voice grows quieter, but he remains firm. “What happened between you and that man?”

Graves tightens his grip around the cup of tea and looks down at it, not replying. He seems lost, and as the silence stretches Newt is ready to apologize again when Graves speaks.

“He abused me. Made me believe I was the one at fault. Typical. He turned people against me. Even my friends, and I thought it was because I did something wrong.”

“Why?”

“It’s just how he is,” Graves says bitterly. “I kept making up excuses for him, and he claimed it was love, and I was stupid enough to believe it.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine. I’m glad I got out of the situation finally. I’m healing now. Trying to. Anyway. Enough about that.” Graves crosses his legs and reclines on the sofa, looking sideways at Newt. “I believe you mentioned a movie?”

“Ah, right.” Newt startles and stands up to get his laptop. “I have a few. What do you like?”

“Do you have anything funny?”

“I have a silly thing about three vampire roommates living together.”

“Cheers,” Graves says, raising his cup of tea. “Sounds good. Anything else?”

“I’m afraid the rest of it is mostly just documentaries about animals,” Newt admits, chastising himself for not watching more varied things.

“You really like animals, don’t you?” Graves asks, the hint of his smile back on his face. Newt is growing to like that smile a bit too much.

“I do. They’re fascinating, and easier to understand than humans.”

“You seem to understand humans just fine, though,” Graves points out. “You kind of put me back together there. You must have lots of friends.”

“No, not really,” Newt answers truthfully. “I annoy people. Feel free to tell me if I do annoy you, by the way.”

“No,” Graves clears his throat. “You - you’re okay. More than okay.”

Newt places the laptop on the table in front of them at the same time as the doorbell rings. “That’s the pizza. Do you mind just closing the blinds while I go get it ?”

“Uh, no. Sure.” Graves gets up and walks over to the window while Newt opens the door to the delivery guy, handing him back the exact amount of money Graves gave him and taking the pizza.

“I only ordered one,” Newt informs. “I hope that’s enough? I’m a light eater, so…”

“It’s good.”

“I got coke and iced tea too. Which do you prefer?”

“Water,” Graves deadpans.

“Damn, Percival. Are you always this cheerful?”

“Well I would ask for a beer, but I heard alcohol was not a good coping mechanism.”

“I’m afraid I’m not really in a good position to deny that,” Newt says, smiling absently at the memories passing through his mind as he sets the pizza on the low table in front of the couch, along with two plastic plates and glasses. “There was one party where I distinctly remember throwing myself at all the available drinks I saw, knowing it was too much and not giving a shit. Ended up drinking one beer and like three glasses of vodka mixed with coke. It was a nice night.”

“It sounds like one,” Graves agrees. “Is the pizza pre-sliced?”

“I think so.”

Graves helps himself and takes a bite of the pizza, closing his eyes at the taste.

“Good?” Newt asks.

“S’ho good,” Graves moans, licking his lips to chase away the crumbs. “It’s been awhile since I had anything as simple as this. Gellert - Gellert was against junk food.”

Newt thinks of the man’s immaculate suit and his position and somehow, Graves’ statement doesn’t surprise him. “How did you two meet?”

“I, uh. I kind of mistook him for one of the men we were looking for from afar and proceeded to arrest him without preamble.”

Newt chokes on his own pizza. “You did _what_ now?”

“Yeah,” Graves says, sheepish. “Not the best first impression. But he was - he _seemed_ \- kind and he didn’t hold it against me. He invited me for coffee. It just went downhill from there. He’d ask me out and offer me all those gifts without me asking, and he’d take me to places I’d never seen and could never afford. Made me discover another world entirely. An entire universe. It was addictive, and I was weak. I liked Gellert. I couldn’t believe my luck.” Graves doesn't seem to be able to stop the flow of words, and Newt doesn't discourage him. “If I ever felt uncomfortable with anything we did he had ways to convince me he was only doing this for me, because he wanted to make me feel good and I believed him. I don’t think it was a lie, but he just -” Graves pauses. “He didn’t _listen_ to me. Never. Whenever I wanted to talk about what I was feeling, my boundaries, he’d end up talking about himself and why he wanted to continue this and never give up on me. He’d give me anything I asked for, anything at all, save for what I truly wanted.”

“Which was?” Newt enquires.

“I wanted him to leave me alone,” Graves says quietly. “Once the euphoria had passed I turned around and kind of realized what my life had turned into. People talked behind my back at work. I’d let my best friend down when she needed me. I’d become cold and distant, focused solely on Gellert and basking in his attention, his gifts. I was arrogant and self centered and most of all unhappy, but I’d reject anyone who dared point this out to me. When I tried to discuss this with Gellert it always ended the same anyway. I felt - ungrateful. He’d talk about what he’d done for me, what else he could do for me, how far I’d come thanks to him. I alternated between telling myself it was over and I could find someone who would love me without asking for anything in return, and doubting it the next second and telling myself that even if I didn’t love Gellert as much as I ought to at least I was safe with him. I was completely lost, and he wasn’t helping. When I convinced myself I was ready to stop or at least take a break from this he’d come home with more gifts and shower me with praises and plans of what he wanted to do with me and I just - went along with it. I was afraid.”

“And I felt so powerful. Pretty. I was wanted. I was like a prize, an artistic project for him, someone to mold and change to his liking. He was convinced what he felt was love, but it wasn’t, and I know it now. It wasn’t.”

Graves exhales.

The clock is ticking on the wall. The pizza has grown colder.

“Percival…” Newt starts, at a loss for words.

The man looks like a wreck with messy hair; red, puffy eyes; and trembling lips. Newt gently cups the side of Graves’ face in one hand and Graves leans into it, seeking affection.

“I don't know if this will help, but,” Newt tries. “But this experience only made you stronger, in my opinion. I mean, you're here with me, you managed to hold yourself together and go up against him in the restaurant. You’re stronger thanks to him, stronger _than_ him, and stronger without him. And you know it. You _feel_ it, right?” Newt presses his hand over Graves’ heart through his clothes, and Graves nods.

“Yeah.”

“So come on,” Newt says - and for the second time that day Graves lets Newt close, Newt wrapping his arms around him and holding him. The position is uncomfortable but Newt doesn’t mind for now. He feels Graves breathe, feels him settle down and quiet his mind.

“Percival,” Newt says after a while. It is peaceful, laying there with Percival dozing off, but his back really is starting to hurt. “You still wanna see that vampire movie?”

Graves blinks and pulls himself up. His hair is even messier than before, but Graves looks past caring. He yawns and blinks again before asking, voice rough, “What time is it?”

“Around ten.”

“Oh. It's late.”

Newt shrugs. “It’s either vampires or you get stuck with tigers and whales and other weird animals.”

“Vampires are okay?” Percival says as though unsure. “I love the original lore. I also used to have a friend who was a fan of Twilight, though I never understood why the author made vampires sparkle.”

Newt wrinkles his nose. “Don’t get me started on this - it makes absolutely no evolutionary sense for vampires to start sparkling. Like, why? What purpose does it serve? A lot of things don’t make sense in that book. For example,” Newt steeples his fingers under his chin and looks at Percival with the most serious expression on his face. “If a vampire gets turned and it causes every bodily fluid to turn into venom, then how come Bella can get pregnant?”

“Woah, woah.” Graves holds up both hands in mock surrender. “Spoilers, dude. I haven't actually seen it.”

“Their saliva is poison,” Newt insists, “But they don’t have blood and they can’t eat or drink, they don’t pee or anything, and there is no way she can get pregnant because if we follow the _everything is poison_ line then Edward cannot reproduce because his own semen is poison. It’s ridiculous.”

Graves stares at him for a few seconds then shakes his head disbelievingly. “I can’t believe we’re talking about vampire cum.”

Newt chuckles. “At least they don’t sparkle in the movie we’re watching. Or come.”

“No, because that would be called a porno, Newt.”

“Quite. And we are not watching porn on our first meeting.”

“No, we're not,” Graves agrees. “That would kind of make things awkward. Perhaps even more than me crying in your arms.”

“Oh, I didn’t mind that,” Newt reassures him quickly. “Although you may have ruined my shirt with your tears.”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“But you smell good, so I forgive you.” Newt winks at him and reaches for his laptop. “Alright, I’m afraid we’re going to have to watch the movie on this small screen. I don’t have anything bigger.”

“It’s fine,” Graves shrugs. “But we should clear the table.”

Newt looks at the half eaten pizza slices all over it, and grimaces. “Yes.”

With the both of them clearing the table they’re done in a matter of minutes, and when they walk back into the living room Newt is excited. “This movie is great, you’ll see. I hope you’ll like it. Please tell me if you don’t. What do you usually watch?”

“To be honest with you I don’t really have time to watch movies,” Graves sighs. “I have like a huge list of things people recommended to me that I haven't even started.”

“Oh, me too,” Newt laughs. “But that’s more because I prefer to spend my free time outside, at the zoo or drawing rather than watching stuff on tv, as compared to a lack of free time.”

“I’m usually just too tired to do more than slump down on my bed at the end of day,” Graves says thoughtfully. “Sometimes I read a book and fall asleep in the middle of it. It's pathetic.”

Newt smiles at the image, thinking that it's adorable, but he doesn't say it. He eyes the sofa in front of them thoughtfully. “We can watch it on my bed. It's big enough for two. We’ll be more comfortable.”

Graves nods his agreement, so Newt grabs his laptop and a couple of pillows and leads them to his bedroom. He throws the pillows on the bed and tries to arrange them the best he can to make something comfortable for the both of them. “There.”

Graves takes off Newt’s slippers and climbs on the bed, settling down, and Newt joins him, holding the computer in his lap. He puts it between the both of them, quickly tapping his password and opening the movie before clicking play. The music starts and Newt asks if Graves wants to turn on a light. He gets a negative response and focuses back on the movie despite knowing it all, eager to see Graves’ reactions to the silly jokes and plot.

Graves gets more comfortable as the movie progresses, settling down in Newt’s bed as if it were his own. At some point he even starts holding a pillow to his chest unconsciously, almost hugging it, completely lost in the movie. “Please tell me the human survives?”

“You’ll see,” Newt teases and Graves scoffs, but he keeps watching.

 

-

 

“So?” Newt asks, clicking pause when the end credits start to roll and switching on the light of his bedside table. “What did you think?”

Graves lets go of his pillow, yawning before stretching on the bed, arms raised above his head and arching his back. Newt gets a glimpse of Graves’ belly as the movement pulls his shirt up and he forces himself to tear his eyes away.

“T’was nice,” Graves admits, contented. “A nice change. It’s a weird movie though.”

“I know. Apparently they’re making a sequel.”

“You serious?” Graves says, incredulous. “About what? They’re all dead!”

“Maybe one isn't and decides to turn more people into vampires and have his own little family.”

“Eh. Right.”

“I wouldn't be surprised. Anyway.” Newt closes the laptop and sets it on the floor beside the bed before sitting up, looking at Graves still laying down. “What do you want to do now? It’s almost midnight.”

Graves looks at the ceiling. “I don’t know.”

“Well - I’m going to take a shower, you take that time to think, okay? You're welcome to stay over if you want. I’ve got spare pajamas and a toothbrush and towels I can give you. We can sleep in my bed or you can sleep on the sofa if you’d rather.”

Graves seems to consider it before he sighs, rolling over to face Newt. “I should head home.”

Newt tries to hide his disappointment and fails miserably, voice small as he replies, “Oh. Sure. I understand.”

“But…” Graves smiles at him. “I don’t think I want to.”

“Ah.” Newt says.

“Go take a shower, Newt,” Graves orders, his voice deeper. “I’ll go after you.”

“O - okay. Yes. Yes.” Newt quickly hurries away to the adjoining bathroom. Once there he takes a minute to collect himself, staring at his reflection in the mirror and thinking of Graves.

Is what he thinks is happening actually real or is he just imagining things? The way Graves looked at him just now - with amusement and something else, something _more_. Newt knows that look. But is he willing to let it go that far when Graves broke down twice thinking about another man?

Newt steps under the shower and lets the water flow, making the decision to just let the evening unfold the way it will. It has been entirely unpredictable so far, and Newt prefers not to worry too much about the future.

He washes thoroughly and steps out of the shower ten minutes later, wrapping a towel around his hips, and realizes belatedly he forgot his pajamas in the bedroom.

Well, then. Two can play at this game.

He brushes his teeth and combs his hair before getting out, towel loose on his hips, in danger of falling off any second.

“I forgot my pajamas,” Newt says apologetically when Graves straightens up at the sight of him, abandoning his phone. Newt feels the older man's eyes on him the whole time it takes to grab pants and a t-shirt in a drawer, and he drags out his movements on purpose. If he had any doubts about Graves’ interests, they're gone. He knows he’s fit, although it can’t be much compared to Graves, but it seems to be enough if the man's staring is anything to go by. Newt pretends not to see it as he returns to the bathroom to get changed, even as a specific kind of anticipation is building in his chest.

He's happy Graves is interested in him. But he doesn’t think that what they have is simply physical attraction - or the whole evening could have taken an entirely different turn much sooner. It doesn’t matter if nothing else happens between them tonight, Newt just wants to know if they will see each other again after this.

“You're gorgeous, you know,” is the first thing Graves says to him when Newt steps out of the bathroom again.

“Uuh - not as much as you,” Newt replies, trying to be smooth. He hands Percival a towel and sweatpants, and the man accepts them, getting up to stand in front of Newt. They're too close again and Newt takes a step back, but Graves follows.

Oh.

_Oh._

Graves backs him up until Newt bumps into the wall, unable to breathe as Graves keeps getting impossibly closer. He places his hands on either side of Newt's head, trapping him in, and presses their bodies together. Newt feels the warmth of him through his clothes, the strength of him, and he nearly whimpers. He missed this.

There's Graves’ breath on his lips, his scent enveloping Newt and making him feel dizzy, and he swallows audibly. Their position makes his heart race. Graves is the predator in the room, and Newt isn't sure he wants to escape. He can feel his blood rushing south as he holds Graves’ gaze, the both of them suspended in time.

He makes himself look inviting, licking his lips and widening his eyes and Graves -

Graves looks angry. At himself or at Newt, Newt doesn't know, but then it doesn't matter because Graves kisses him, wrapping one hand around Newt's throat, the pressure not enough to be threatening.

Newt makes a strangled sound of surprise, the sudden rush of arousal at Graves’ gesture enough to make his head spin. He clutches at Graves’ arms for support, his body pressed against the wall as Graves kisses him, trying to make his touches soft at first, but rapidly growing rougher, licking into Newt's mouth, biting his lower lip. Newt spreads his legs in invitation and Graves understands, slipping his own thigh in the space between Newt's legs and providing pressure where Newt most needs it.

Newt’s eyes flutter closed and he loses himself in the warmth spreading through him, not participating in the kiss anymore but simply breathing into Graves’ mouth as he rolls his hips.

Graves keeps one hand on Newt's neck while the other travels down Newt's chest, making Newt's entire body acutely aware of where Graves is. Graves caresses him through his thin t-shirt, seemingly searching for something and, _ah_ -

Graves circles one of Newt's nipples, thumb pressing in deep around it and Newt gasps. He feels so warm, all over, helplessly aroused, ready to do anything Graves asks of him. Newt is fully hard now, his legs trembling with the effort of holding himself up. The pressure between his legs feels so _good_ but it's not enough, and his head falls back against the wall in frustration. It makes Graves latch onto the offered skin of his neck, moving his hand away to kiss Newt's jaw, his neck, his collarbone, wet and open mouthed.

Newt grips Graves’ hair and yanks his head up, unable to take it anymore, feeling like he's going mad.

“Bed,” Newt says huskily, but his eyes widen when he sees the absolutely wild look in Graves’ eyes.

Graves is tearing up, looking utterly desperate, and he tries to hide it and makes a move to kiss Newt again, but Newt stops him. “Percival?”

“Bed,” Percival echoes, but his voice breaks. He kisses Newt's neck again, but Newt feels his hands shake where they still clutch Newt's shirt. “Now, please.”

Newt’s feels himself tearing up. His arousal is throbbing, demanding attention, but Newt steels himself and steps to the side, holding Graves at arm's length. “Not when you're like this. What’s going on?”

“I want _you_.”

“Maybe you do, but this isn't it, Percival.” Newt escapes Graves to stand in the middle of the room, crossing his arms over his chest. “I'm not a fool. What is this?”

Graves’ face is burning. Newt sees his fists clench and he locks his jaw, determined not to say anything. “I don't want to _talk_.”

“Well I don't want to have sex with someone who is _crying_. You expect me to go on when you look like this after simply making out with me?” Newt says incredulously. “You expect me to just shrug and go on?”

“ _Yes.”_

“Well I'm not going to, you idiot! Either you talk or nothing happens! I like you, Percival, but I don’t want to do _this_ if it makes you feel this way! Is this about Grindelwald?”

“I. Don’t. Want. To. Talk. About. Him,” Graves growls. “Why do we keep circling back to him?! You’re here, I’m here, why can’t we just enjoy ourselves?”

“So it _is_ about him.”

“I don’t _want_ to think of him, damn it,” Graves cries, desperate. “I want to forget. Help me forget!”

“Percival.” Newt holds up his hands. “Breathe, okay? I’m not going anywhere.”

“You - ” Graves stops moving towards Newt, shock and confusion painting his features. “You - you -” He is speechless, caught off guard, falling apart. “What?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Newt repeats calmly, trying to reign in his own anger at Graves’ attitude, because it will lead them nowhere. He takes a few deep breaths before speaking again. “I’m not going anywhere. And you don't have to leave either. I'm tired. I didn’t expect anything to happen this evening. Since it is happening and we’re here, now I just want to understand you, but I can’t do that unless you talk to me.” Then softer, “Please talk to me, Percival. Let’s figure this out together.”

Graves doesn’t reply, standing stock still in the middle of the room. Newt approaches him as slowly as he would a scared, hurt animal, and takes Graves’ hand in his, bringing it to his lips and kissing it. “Please?”

Graves only stares at him in mute shock, but he lets Newt lead him until they’re both sitting in the middle of Newt’s bed, legs crossed and hands intertwined.

Newt waits, patiently, for Graves to start talking, and when he does his voice is barely above a whisper.

-

“You’re not the first one.”

“I’m not the first one to what?” Newt asks, just as quietly.

Graves takes a deep breath, looking down at their joined hands. Newt doesn’t move. He simply holds Graves and lets him know he’s there. “Not the first person I followed home.”

“After Grindelwald?”

“Yeah.” Graves shudders. “No one understands. He had me, Newt. He owned me. In every way you can own another human being. So realizing that…” Graves’ voice trails off. “Realizing that he _wasn’t_ good for me, that I was unhappy with him and scared to let it show, that was hard. But leaving him… Leaving him for my own good was harder. It _hurt_ , so much.”

“When did you break up?”

“Five months ago.”

Newt nods. “It is recent.”

“Yes. And then I tried to … get back on track on my own. I was alone. I almost came crawling back to him multiple times. I missed him and I missed what he offered me, the world he’d brought me into, how easy life was with him. I only had to ask and he'd provide. But then I’d tell myself it was stupid. I didn’t need him. I was financially okay on my own, and I would eventually forget him and find someone else. Do you understand?”

Newt hums. He doesn’t, because he hasn’t lived it, but he understands how Graves feels about finding someone. “So you tried.”

“So I tried,” Graves acquiesces. “Found a nice woman in a bar, we hit it off, and I tried, and I failed miserably. When I left her flat I could almost hear Gellert tell me how much I needed him and I almost called him and made a mistake again.”

“But you didn’t.”

“Because my phone died.”

Newt blinks, then he smiles just a little. “What a good coincidence.”

“Indeed,” Graves smiles back, although it is strained. “I focused on work, on putting things right again with my best friend Seraphina, whom I’d completely abandoned,  and on other things. I ignored his calls and eventually blocked him. He missed his work on purpose to see me at the police station, looking like he hadn’t slept in weeks, and he asked me to please come home. I had to deny him and it was…” Graves blinks back tears, squeezing Newt’s hand. “It was the hardest fucking thing I’d ever had to do in my life, but I did it. And it made me feel proud.”

“Then life went on, and I met this guy at work like a month ago. James, his name was, and he had such an obvious crush on me it was laughable. But then I thought, why not?”

Graves looks at Newt, his expression pained. “Why not?” He says, and Newt doesn’t feel like Graves is talking about James anymore. “Why not? You’re cute and you’re into me, why not? Why not do this? I have no reasons to feel guilty, Gellert isn’t here anymore. I can be with someone else, I can do it, I don’t need him.”

“And I tried again. Invited James out. Made him believe in us. But when the time came…” Graves says bitterly, “When the time came I couldn’t do it, the same way I can’t with you. And I’m _tired_ , Newt, and it is killing me. I want to forget, but I can’t. I want to know someone else, I want to _want_ someone else, but it’s hard. And with you…” Graves breathes.

“With you… I really, really feel like I _could_ . I want to, Newt. I want _you_. But I don’t know how to do it, and I don’t know why you’re still here with me.”

“I already told you why,” Newt murmurs.

“I know. Can you forgive me?”

Silence falls. Newt brushes the back of Graves’ hands with his thumb, feeling heavy with sleep, but fighting it.

“Percival.”

“Yeah?” Percival asks softly, and his voice is heartbreaking.

“Thank you.”

“What?”

“For being honest with me,” Newt clarifies. “It’s not easy.”

“It’s not, but it feels good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

“I’m glad.”

“Percival,” Newt starts again after a while. “I want you too. But I don’t want you to feel like you have to prove anything, to anyone.” Newt pauses, searching his words. “You don’t have to prove to Gellert that you’re happy without him, because these things take time and being focused on him like that makes you lose sight of your own recovery. You don’t have to prove to yourself that you’re fine when you’re not. You don’t have to prove to me, a stranger you just met, that you’re worth something, because I can see that from afar. And I don’t want you to rush into _this_ because you want to prove all these things. I just wanted to make you feel good. And happy. I still do.”

“You’re managing quite well so far,” Percival manages to say, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. “I’m sorry.”

“What are you apologizing for now?”

“You know.” Graves turns away, cheeks flushing. “Earlier. Throwing myself at you.”

“Well you didn’t see me complaining,” Newt says, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

“No,” Graves laughs weakly, “But. Still. I feel bad.”

“I’ll get over it. Your health is more important. Sex can wait,” Newt says honestly, because it really can. Making Graves stay is more important.

Graves smiles at him, warm and happy, and then he yawns, looking bemused by the loudness of it.

“I think you should go take that shower,” Newt suggests, pushing him away gently. “And if you prefer to sleep on the couch, you can.”

Graves nods and gets up, the mattress lifting up a bit as he leaves. He grabs Newt’s towel and his sweatpants, thrown haphazardly on the floor somewhere in the middle of the action, and walks to the bathroom.

Once at the door he turns around, hesitantly, and calls Newt.

“Newt?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you,” Graves says honestly, trying to convey how much he feels in two words, and Newt nods in understanding.

“Go.” He waves him away and Graves chuckles before finally closing the bathroom door behind him.

Once he’s out of sight Newt collapses against the pillows, staring up at the ceiling and raking a hand through his hair.

“What the _fuck_ are you doing, Newt Scamander,” Newt mutters to himself. “That guy is fucking _trouble_ . Stay _away_.”

Yet, even as he says it, he knows he won’t even if it burns him. Not after this.

-

Newt feels the mattress dip under him and he opens one eye, half asleep against the pillows. Graves is only wearing the sweatpants Newt gave him, the smell of soap reaching Newt’s nose, and he suddenly feels much more awake.

“Hi,” Graves says. “Thank you for the pants. And the bathroom. And the meal. And everything, really. I’ve been thinking, and I’m pretty sure you’re actually an angel.”

Newt rolls his eyes, sitting up and pulling the covers off to properly slip into bed. He takes the right side, allowing Graves to take place beside him and covering them again. “Don’t be sappy.”

“That’s rich coming from you.”

“Oh, shut up.” Newt turns off the light, hiding his smile in the darkness.

“Yes sir.”

Newt buries his face in the pillow to avoid thinking about these two words coming out of Graves’ mouth.

He’s in so much trouble, damn it. Why did Graves have to pick him in that coffee shop, out of all people?

“Hey, why did you pick me out of everyone?”

“Hmm?” Graves isn’t sleeping, arms crossed behind his head. Newt can vaguely see him in the moonlight streaming out of the partially closed blinds, and he is both thankful and regretful that he switched off the light - that way he can’t see Graves half naked, but also, he _can’t_ see Graves half naked.

_Calm down, Scamander._

He can’t remember the last time he wanted to be with someone this much this quickly. He also can’t remember the last time he gave anyone motivational speeches at one AM, but he supposes there is a first for everything.

“At the coffee shop. Why me?”

“You were good looking?” Graves says as if it were obvious. “I mean there was you, an old lady, a fifty-something-year-old man wearing a shirt with a coffee stain, and a cute girl at the back, but I wanted to piss off Gellert so I chose a man.”

“I see.”

“Best decision of my life, really,” Graves says, and Newt can feel him turn towards him. “Who would have thought.”

Newt shrugs, although Graves can’t see him. “It was a rather … interesting evening. A nice start for this weekend, to say the least.”

“What did you have in mind for the weekend?”

“Not much,” Newt says. “I wanted to go sketch some of the animals at the zoo again, but apart from that… What about you?”

“Seraphina invited me to have dinner with her and her husband. If I don’t go she will skin me, but maybe her daughter will get there before her. I’ve been a terrible godfather to her so far,” Graves says with regret. “I should buy her something to make up for it.”

“How old is she?”

“Two.”

Newt hums. “I can help you pick out her present tomorrow, if you want. Do you have siblings?”

“No. You?”

“Yeah. An older brother. He’s the family genius. I haven’t seen him in ages.”

-

They keep talking. Newt speaks of his job, his plans for a new book, and Graves talks about a few cases he’d solved. The more the night drags on the more Newt snuggles into his pillow, the tiredness of the past week catching up with him. Graves imitates him when he yawns, blinking back sleep from his eyes.

“I’m keeping you up.”

“You are,” Newt says. “But I like it.”

“Me, too. I can’t remember the last time I had a conversation like that.”

“Me neither,” Newt admits. “Or the last time anyone actually listened to me. It's a wonder you're not snoring yet.”

“Idiot. I like listening to you. These people don’t know what they’re missing.”

“Hmm.” Newt yawns again and shifts in the bed, accidentally colliding with Graves. “Ow. What was that?”

“My shoulder,” Graves whispers. “Sorry. Where are you?”

“Here,” Newt whispers back. He blindly reaches out for Graves until he touches him. “What is this?”

“My hip,” Graves says, amusement lacing his voice. Newt feels Graves’ own hand pat his side until it rests on Newt’s shoulder, and Newt laughs softly. Graves keeps going, his hand traveling up Newt’s neck until he is cupping the side of Newt’s face, skin almost too warm against Newt’s cheek. “I've got you.”

“Yes,” Newt murmurs sleepily, voice lower as he snuggles against Graves. “You do.” His hand is still resting on Graves’ hip and he starts stroking the naked skin there gently, feeling him, soft and warm and real. His heart is racing. He thinks Graves shivers, but it could just be his imagination.

Graves brings him up until their foreheads bump together, and Newt smiles. Their breaths are mingling, smelling of Newt’s toothpaste, and Graves whispers, “Are you okay?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Newt says. “More than okay.”

Graves smiles, and then he kisses him.

* * *

 

 

The end.

**Author's Note:**

> hullo, it's been a while ! <3
> 
> i hope you enjoyed this (quite long) story ! kudos are love, comments are true love and more fic coming ur way and i just need to know what you thought <33
> 
> you can also find me on tumblr @thegaypumpingthroughyourveins, come say hello ! aaaand
> 
> the song Sky and Sand by Paul Kalkbrenner fits well with this fic so if you have time go & have a listen, you won't regret it 
> 
> that being said i shall now wobble to bed because it is 2 am and i stayed up just to post this tonight weee 
> 
> huge thanks to both Funkzpiel and vaderina for beta reading, id be lost without them <3 
> 
> have a good night/day, and thank you ! <3


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